The caustic reek of antiseptic intertwined with the metallic tang of fresh blood coiled like twin venomous serpents around Chen Mo’s senses, dragging him back from the abyssal dark. Consciousness surfaced like a foundering vessel, each attempt at coalescence met with lacerating agony. A deep, grinding torment radiated from his right scapula, as if crushed by industrial machinery; every shallow breath ignited neural fire, triggering suffocating spasms. His back, where it had slammed against the wall, burned as if studded with white-hot needles. Sweat and serous fluid soaked the fresh temple bandage, its clammy edge adhering to his skin.
He forced heavy eyelids open. Vision swam, distorted as if viewed through grimy, frosted glass. Above, the pitiless glare of surgical lamps persisted,
